that could have such an effect on her.
Daniel’s fingers tightened. ‘You know you don’t mean that.’
He swung her round to face him and he was smiling. He frightened her—or, to be more precise about it, she frightened herself. Her whole body ached to be held close to his, for him to lower that fabulously sensual mouth and kiss her again...
‘But that can wait. You and I need to talk.’
Wait until when? What did he mean? Annie’s eyes cast desperately around. She was in some kind of a trap and there was no one to let her out The remaining guests were in the huge drawing room, cleared of furniture for this evening, dancing or standing in groups talking, eating and drinking. Even if she screamed her lungs out no one would hear her above the music.
‘Annie?’ A gentle shake, his fingers soft on her flesh now, had her fiercely deriding herself for being such a fool. She’d accused him of overreacting before and now she was doing the same.
‘Well?’ She couldn’t say more. Her tongue felt thick.
‘Not here. The noise coming from that room is enough to shake the whole house.’
He slipped a gentle arm around her, and that was her undoing. The smile in his eyes, in his voice, the unexpected gentleness made her whole body quiver as he walked her towards the open main door.
She couldn’t think straight, so how could she walk straight? She leant against his body, sighing as his arm tightened around her waist, his strength supporting her, feeling like a thief because she was stealing a few moments of heaven that he had no idea he was giving...
CHAPTER TWO
THE night air was close and sticky as they walked out of the main door and onto the floodlit drive. A sudden gust of hot wind lifted the flirty hems of Annie’s skirt around her knees and pressed the fine cotton against her tummy. There seemed no respite from the heat, even outdoors. And the way Daniel’s presence made her blood scorch through her veins wasn’t helping.
Annie struggled ineffectually with her flyaway skirts and moments later the first few heavy drops of rain fell.
‘The wind makes a habit of wrapping your skirts around your waist to tease the male sex—what did you barter to get the elements on side?’ Daniel murmured with throaty amusement as another gust lifted the floaty fabric towards the heavens.
Uncalled for. Annie rooted her feet in the gravel, hoping the shadows would hide her furious blush, and Daniel said, ‘We’re in for a storm. My car’s around somewhere in this lot.’
He took her hand in his warm grasp, long fingers wrapping around hers, and tugged her through the guests’ parked vehicles until he located his Jaguar, the silver paintwork gleaming under the security lights.
They were tucked inside just a fraction of a second before the heavens opened. ‘Right,’ Daniel said, and fired the ignition.
‘What are you doing?’ She turned to look at him, big, bemused eyes dominating her face, then relaxed back against the leather upholstery, reassured by the flicker of a smile caught in the lights from the dashboard.
‘Moving to where we won’t be disturbed. Fasten your seatbelt.’
Just for a few yards? Annie shrugged and complied. She supposed it did make sense. The ferocity of the rainstorm made visibility almost nil, the wipers barely coping with the sudden deluge. And of course he would want to move his car out of the way of those of the guests who would soon be departing—and it would be a good idea to talk.
Maybe he’d come to his senses and decided his treatment of her had been way over the top. And she would be able to tell him exactly why she’d mistaken him for Rupert at that other party eight months ago.
Clearly there had been some misunderstanding—a misreading of the situation. No man in his right mind could take so decisively and implacably against a woman merely because she’d flung herself at him, kissing him wildly before realising her mistake and taking to her heels! And there was nothing whatsoever wrong with Daniel Faber’s mind!
So this would be a good opportunity to sort it all out, wouldn’t it?
She would dearly love the antagonism between them to be over. But would all the stinging tension that made the air fizz around them whenever they were near each other disappear, too?
With the departure of antagonism would there be nothing left? Or would whatever it was that made the atmosphere sizzle still be there, to be built upon?
Suddenly she wanted to be able to build something with this man. She felt it like a keen ache, deep inside her. Which only went to show what a fool she was.
Daniel Faber could have his pick. And the type of woman he would choose would be elegant, quite certainly beautiful, and more than likely out of the top social drawer.
He wouldn’t choose a nobody like her, not in a thousand years. A nobody with nothing going for her but a bunch of wild hair and a liking for loud clothes.
She sighed and focused her eyes on the rhythmic sweep of the windscreen wipers, then shot him a frowning glance. She’d been so deeply entrenched in her thoughts she hadn’t stopped to wonder why it was taking him so long to find a place to park up.
The car was climbing up a steep, narrow lane, the headlights carving a path through the heavy rain. ‘Where on earth are we going?’ she demanded as he negotiated a sharp bend carefully, then turned the car onto an even narrower, steeper track, where the hedgerows were so high and heavy with water they hung down, scraping the sides of the vehicle with dark, leafy fingers.
‘Relax. Almost there.’
That didn’t answer her question. She slewed round in her seat, trying to read something from his face. He was concentrating, his features very controlled. ‘You said you wanted to talk,’ she pointed out warily. ‘What’s wrong with now? So far you’ve said nothing.’
He stopped the car. The powerful headlights illuminated a small stone cottage in a raggedy patch of garden, separated from the unmade track by a crooked gate. And then he switched off lights and ignition and there was just the darkness and the beating rain and the rapid thud of sudden anxiety as it pulsed chaotically through her veins.
It got worse as he produced a torch from somewhere and flicked it on. ‘Sorry about the weather. We’ll have to make a run for it. I’ll be right behind you with the torch, so you’ll be OK if you watch your step.’
‘Make a run for what?’ Annie folded her arms across her chest. She was going nowhere. She was stopping exactly where she was.
‘For the cottage, of course.’ Impatience tinged his voice. ‘I don’t intend spending the night in the car.’
The night? The whole night?
‘You have to be joking!’ Distrust made her voice sharp and a current of something—fear or manic excitement, she didn’t know which—shot through her veins, making her stomach clench. ‘Either that or I’ve missed the point entirely.’
‘No joke, Annie,’ he drawled, reaching into the rear of the car for a holdall. ‘We’ve fallen madly in lust and have sloped away to spend the night
